Half Alien, Part 7 (Patreon)

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Summary: At the age of 18, while suffering from butt-expansion and unending arousal, Ryan discovers that he is half-alien and he has gone into heat. Ryan is resistant to the concept for a while, but finally resorts to getting laid. Unfortunately for Ryan, this results in a perpetually-growing pregnancy that cannot be birthed until his supply of offspring is “replenished” by more mating. Contains: Male: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, egg laying.

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-

When Ryan awoke again, the eggs were gone. Every one of them. Feeling stunned, he shuffled into the dining room. He clutched his sore navel, his stretched clothes hanging loosely on his torso. “What happened to them?” he asked.

His parents looked up from their tea.

“Oh, we brought them to the beach,” said his father.

Ryan’s jaw fell. “What?” He was certain he had misheard.

“Dear, the eggs can’t be exposed to air for too long before they hatch. We brought them to the ocean,” said his mother.

“I don’t even get to keep them?” said Ryan in growing indignation.

“Of course not, sweetie,” his mother responded. “Most of your young will succumb to predators, and won’t even reach adulthood. Why, you were the only survivor of our fourth litter.”

His father nodded. “You were a smart one. Somehow you got washed up on the beach by the tide, and you wriggled your way out of the sun. You had your mother’s birth mark. Some officials on Tuppern managed to identify you, and brought you back to us. We even got to keep you!”

Ryan was aghast. After all of that work, the majority of his spawn—possibly even all of them—wouldn’t even survive infancy. Ryan dropped to a chair, before he grimaced, and quickly cupped the sharp point of his belly. It seemed he had been born into the worst species imaginable. What a crappy deal, this whole reproduction thing. And to think, he would have to do it again and again. Ryan was so distraught, he thought he might cry.

-

When Ryan returned to school, he felt weary and shaky. He could sense when his mate was near, but went out of his way to avoid him, often hiding in empty classrooms and supply closets to avoid an encounter with Jack. It wasn’t time. Not yet.

But when he didn’t manage to hurry off, and Jack passed him in the corridors, Ryan could feel him staring. Jack stared at the way Ryan had inexplicably shrunk, his belly no longer the size of a bolder and dominating his body. Jack stared at the way Ryan’s belly had returned to its odd, conical shape, Ryan often grimacing in discomfort and moving gingerly.

Ryan just kept his head down, and avoided meeting Jack’s eyes on any occasion.

Slowly Ryan grew, rounding out as he had the first time. He ate continuously, feeding his growing young, and preparing his body for the upcoming delivery as he adopted increasingly baggy attire.

Ryan hunched as he shuffled about school, often clutching books, and fortunately no one seemed to pay much attention to his burgeoning pregnancy. No one except Jack, who eyed Ryan, almost wary.

Jack who had gotten the other meatheads to stop harassing Ryan, and who had limited his animosity to the occasional suspicious look.

It wasn’t for several weeks that Ryan finally met Jack’s eyes. Ryan had grown substantially, but not nearly as large as before. His belly resembled a pregnancy at its seventh month, but innately, Ryan knew it was time. He knew his young were ready. He didn’t know how he could tell. He supposed it was experience. His senses were becoming fine-tuned to his condition.

Ryan also knew that he was going into his second heat, as his parents called it. He could see it in the flush of his cheeks, or the sheen of perspiration on his skin. His lips were pinker, his skin more supple than before, and his bottom was plumpening—all these things were meant to draw his mate in. Ryan knew that it was time to birth his litter. And this time he didn’t intend to wait.

So Ryan watched Jack indulgently, knowing that Jack could see it, feel Ryan’s appraisal.

Ryan's body was hot and pulsing, his ass throbbing with arousal. He watched Jack stroll into the bathroom alone that afternoon during his free period, and Ryan waited just a moment, before following him inside.

Jack looked up from washing his hands, and raised a brow, his eyes trailing up and down Ryan’s body. “Look who’s porking up again,” he said with a malicious grin. “What do you want now? I hope you’re not here to—hey!” Jack was caught off guard as Ryan grabbed him by the shirt, dragged him to a stall, and shoved him inside. Then Ryan followed him in, closing the door behind them.

“Beg for it?” Ryan breathed. “Do I really have it?” Ryan turned his back on Jack, effectively blocking the exit as he leaned his arms on the door, sticking his ass out, against Jack’s heat. His crack bulged slightly over the waistband of his basketball shorts, plump mounds flushed and waiting. His mate’s body shuddered against him. He knew Jack wanted it.

Jack drew a long breath. “Still a freak, then.”

“Yes,” Ryan conceded. He nearly moaned as Jack’s hands clasped his hips to draw him even closer. He wondered if Jack suspected that he was in for a lifelong deal, but he didn’t worry about that. Instead he closed his eyes and prepared for fertilization.

-

That evening, Ryan shuffled into his house, clutching his navel, which was rapidly swelling under his T-shirt. His parents looked up at his entrance.

“Mom, dad,” Ryan managed, blushing and frowning. “I saw Jack earlier, so, erm—I’m just going to go to my bedroom and try to—to give birth.” It was sort of a routine now, wasn’t it? His parents smiled contently as he grimaced and shuffled off to his room. He just hoped this labor would be shorter than his last. He had a math test on Friday.

-

Six Years Later…

At twenty-four, Ryan was regretful to admit that he was still having regular heats, and he was still quite fertile. Again, it seemed that he was the exception not the rule. Most Tupperns were no longer fertile by his age, but apparently Ryan was the perfect breeder. It could have been attributed to his mixed genes—no one really knew. His parents couldn’t have been more thrilled, as it seemed they would have more than a few grandchildren—even if they wouldn’t necessarily meet them, the eggs being released to the sea and all. Ryan found the whole thing to be ridiculous, atrocious, and quite pointless. He didn’t even know if he was technically a parent. He would never meet his offspring.

Ryan and Jack had managed to work through Ryan’s consistent heats for years by attending the same college. Once they had both graduated and taken up careers, though, things got a little more tricky.

“When will you get here?” said Ryan impatiently as he cradled his belly. Jack was on another business trip.

“It’s going to run another week,” said Jack, not repentant, but not acerbic either. He was always irritatingly neutral in their interactions. “Why?” he added.

“Everyone’s staring,” Ryan moaned.

“Let them.”

“I haven’t gotten this big in a while,” Ryan went on. He continued rubbing his belly. Even his mate’s voice seemed to aggravate his body, his insides burning, ass throbbing with heat and desire. He grunted as his belly tightened slightly.

“Sorry,” said Jack, his voice flat and insincere.

“There are also some…new things as well,” Ryan managed.

“Oh?” This seemed to pique Jack’s interest, if just briefly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. In terms of work—do what’s best for you, and the—babies.”

Ryan winced at the word “babies.” He generally tried not to think of them as living things, but it left both men feeling rather callous. “Right, fine,” said Ryan. With a plaintive sigh, he hung up. Then he returned his attention to his too-large-to-hide belly, which was interrupting work, and it was again Jack’s fault.

-

Jack’s flight turned out being delayed another week because of inclement weather in the flight path.

When he walked into Ryan’s apartment, he almost expected the worse, but found Ryan standing at the kitchen counter, audibly gobbling down whatever culinary monstrosity occupied the batter-bowl he was presently gorging from. Jack absently admired Ryan’s swollen ass.

“Couldn’t make it to the table?” Jack joked.

He watched Ryan’s back tense. He could see the roundness of his belly overflowing his flanks. With a gulping noise, Ryan forced down the mouthful of food he had been chewing on. And then he carefully turned around.

Jack marveled at Ryan’s belly. The half-alien’s body never ceased to fascinate him. He was large and round, looking as though he was overdue with twins by human standards. Jack almost pitied Ryan—enduring repetitive pregnancies, growing perpetually, having to wait for a fuck every time he wanted to give birth. It was sort of impressive that Ryan hadn’t gone insane by then.

“Sorry,” said Jack lamely. “There was a delay and—”

“Right,” Ryan cut him off. He rubbed the side of his large belly. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m not exactly on PTO.”

Jack acquiesced with a slight incline of his head, and approached. He perused Ryan’s body, and attire. He was wearing low-hung sweatpants and an overly-stretched T-shirt. “Those are new,” Jack remarked of the small mounds of Ryan’s chest. They were full and round and had to be B-cups, nipples protruding evidently. Ryan had sometimes gotten small anthills in the past, but never anything so developed.

“Yeah,” said Ryan bitterly. “Just when I thought I couldn’t get any more freakish.”

Jack rested his hand on Ryan’s belly and was surprised by how firm it was. Ryan’s abdomen was always softer, yielding to the flexibility of the eggs. This really was different. Before Jack could reflect on it any further, Ryan gripped his arm and pulled him along to the bedroom.

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